


Slow Dance

by ivorybyrd



Series: Gundam Wing Prompts [5]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Quiet Trowa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorybyrd/pseuds/ivorybyrd
Summary: Quatre sits alone listening to music, Trowa comes home and feels affectionate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet Moments Meme prompt. "Slow Dancing"

Quatre felt his heart was boundless and limitless to all things. He loved animals, he loved nature and the earth. He felt an altruistic love for all of mankind, and an unconditional love for his friends and family.

Trowa, however is not a thing. Trowa was a person, a person he had grown to love more than any other person.

Quatre had four things in abundance brought from his storage on the colony, to their base to make it feel more like home. 

Books, to be exact three thousand, four hundred and twenty-five books. When they finished the library it was found to not be full. Trowa stopped him from ordering more in order to fill the empty shelves. 

Art, most of it copies of old world works, each one more strange and eccentric. But even Trowa agreed that it helped the base feel less sanitarium. 

Violins, because it wasn't unrealistic that he’d go without his collection.

And finally, the single record player, and the three hundred and seventy-six records from the old world that had once belonged to his mother. Or the woman that his father was most in love with that was said to be his mother. He was never sure. 

Well, there was also a quilt, made by one of his sisters, but there was only one like it. 

Trowa had left sometime in the early evening, Catherine had been in the area and wanted to have dinner with her brother. Sometimes she and Quatre didn't fully see eye to eye, but given his history, that was understandable. She still treated him like a little brother.

Quatre spent this night alone, sitting in his music room listening to a record with a quilt and a copy of War of the Worlds. 

The door to the room opened and he shifted, sitting up straight as he looked across the room to see Trowa’s head stick through the door. 

“Hello! Did you have a good dinner with your sister?” Quatre smiled, closing the book some, finger between the separate pages. 

Trowa came in. “I may have eaten too much,” he commented and instead of coming to Quatre he looked at the line of records on the shelf. 

“What did you have?” the blonde asked. 

“She wanted shawarma, and bought you some as well.” Trowa pulled a bag out and finally set it on the table next to Quatre. “Sorry she didn't invite you.”

“She’s allowed to want alone time with her brother, its fine.” 

Trowa had went back to the collection, and Quatre’s interest followed after him.

“Something you want to listen to?” he asked finally, Trowa had shifted back and forth a few times. 

“It’s fine.” Trowa finally grabbed one, his finger laying across the top of the cardboard sleeve and he slid it out. He carried it delicately to the record player. He took the current one off, and slipped the new large round disc onto the spindle. 

Quatre watched with curiosity, Trowa had held it in such a way that his eyes didn’t catch the cover. 

He recognized it as the needle started its spiral towards the inside. 

A smooth female voice came on, and filled the room with the sound of a soft acoustic guitar. 

Quatre sighed, feigning some exasperation. “Trowa…” 

The other was quiet, that endearing, rare, smile on his face. 

“But I’m warm.” Quatre tried to avoid Trowa’s face, playfully ignoring the other who had finally come to his chair and fishing for his hand. “And I cant lose my spot in this book that I’ve definitively not read five times.” 

Trowa’s smile still remained, he reached to the quilt and his hands searched for Quatre’s playfully hidden ones. 

Quatre had laughed, his face flustered. “Ok, ok,” he said and stood up, blanket still wrapped around him. The book remained on the couch, fully closed and the page lost for some time.

Trowa gently pushed the quilt off of Quatre’s shoulders, pulling him a bit closer as the second song came to life. It was another slow, somewhat warm sounding tune. It was almost like a music box, soft and sweet sounding.

Quatre let his face fall to the other’s chest, hiding his bashfulness in the other’s sweater. He never liked to dance, because he was an anxious leader. With Trowa, though, he was always swept around with ease, and his feet always fell into the right place. 

Trowa pulled him around the small area of the room, swaying back and forth as the song continued on. 

They were like this, rotating around the room for only moments. Quatre’s face finally broke free and his cheek pressed against the influx between the other’s shoulder and collarbone. He could feel Trowa’s nose against the side of his neck. Their respective hands held tightly, with fingers laced. 

When the song stopped, Quatre tried to pull away, but felt almost glued to Trowa’s chest. 

Trowa started to move with Quatre in tow as the next song started.

Quatre’s stomach let out a long, audible growl. 

Both fell into a fit of laughter, and Trowa finally unwrapped his arm from Quatre’s waist. “Go eat.” 

Quatre smiled, “Thank you,” he said and sat down to eat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
